The end of the rope
by Profound Yaoi
Summary: Severus is reaching the end of his rope. That's where Harry Potter comes in. Of course. Warnings: Slash, course language and possible future angst and lemons. Rated M for future chapters. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Severus Snape scowled to himself as he stormed down the corridor to his chambers, robes billowing ominously behind him.

_Damn that Potter brat… and the Werewolf! How dare that parchment insult me! Zonko's merchandise my arse!_

He spat out the password to his rooms, refusing to admit that the damned parchment had hurt his feelings. He was, after all, above such things.

He headed straight for his Firewhiskey, pouring himself a generous glass. Downing that in two swallows, he poured another, taking the decanter with him to the armchair in front of the fire.

_Even a piece of parchment thinks I'm ugly._ He wiped away the tears running down his cheeks, insisting that they were from looking in the fire for too long.

Three large drinks later, Severus decided it was time to turn in. He readied a hangover draught before collapsing into bed, not bothering with a shower.

Harry slowly made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wasn't angry at Lupin. He was just doing his job. And he hadn't given Harry detention or taken points – for which he was grateful.

But, he couldn't help be angry at the Marauders' Map. When it had insulted Snape, he was sure he'd seen a brief look of hurt on the professor's face, before it was covered by anger.

Sure, Harry didn't like Snape very much, but he didn't think he was ugly. He certainly didn't deserve to be insulted like that; in such a cruel, childish way. To attack his appearance, something he couldn't help, disgusted Harry. He knew what being called names could do to a person. He'd been called enough of them. Freak, ugly, runt, loser; some worse, some not so bad, all with the same intent and affect. He didn't want anyone else to feel that way, either. Especially not because of him. And he did feel guilty about the Map. If he hadn't been out breaking rules, he wouldn't have been caught by Snape, and Snape wouldn't have been called greasy, or told he had a big nose.

He gave the password to a disgruntled Fat Lady and made his way to bed. _I should apologise,_ he thought, as he changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed, setting his wand and glasses on the bedside table.

He drifted off to sleep, planning on apologising to Snape after his next class with the man.

It was two weeks before Harry had gathered enough courage to face the frightening Potions Master.

Finally, the bell rang, signalling the end of class. Harry took a breath, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

"I'll catch up with you two in a moment," he told his friends, his look saying he'd explain later. They shrugged, nodded and left for lunch.

Harry made his way to the front of the room, to Snape's desk, where the man in question sat, marking papers.

"Professor?" He asked timidly, and waited to be acknowledged. It took a few moments before Snape looked up. He said nothing, but the look on his face spoke loud enough. "Er… I… wanted to apologise." Harry felt his face flush, as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and stared at the desk in front of him. He glanced at his teacher's face to gouge a reaction. Seeing the mildly confused look, he continued. "F-for last week." He paused, trying to build his waning courage.

Before he could continue, however, Snape spoke. "You finally wish to apologise for breaking a rule, Potter?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Not for that, sir…" he readjusted his backpack again and pressed on. "For… the parchment. I didn't know it would – or _could_ – do that. I'm sorry it insulted you, sir. You don't deserve that. And… and for what little it's worth… I don't think you have a big nose. I-I don't think you're ugly." He mumbled the last two statements, barely loud enough for Snape to hear.

"Get out."

Harry felt his face flush as he fled the room, making his way to the Great Hall as quickly as possible.

He didn't know what sort of reaction he'd expected from his professor, but that wasn't it.

The dismissal was full of cold fury. He didn't think he'd ever heard Snape so angry. When he'd risked a quick glance to the man's face, he'd only seen a blank mask, broken only by the rage in the cold, black eyes; the emotion so strong that even the usually-collected man couldn't hide it. He dared not push his luck by lingering.

_They probably wouldn't find my body for weeks…_ he mused, grimly; trying to rid himself of the embarrassment of his apology and the fear of Snape's anger.

Finally, he made it to the safety of the Great Hall, and the welcome company of his friends.

With a made-up excuse, he tucked in to his food, letting the buzz of chatter envelope him, pushing his worries aside. For now.

Severus sat rigidly in his chair for a few minutes after Potter left. He couldn't believe the nerve of the brat! How _dare_ he spout such lies! How dare he bring up the previous week's incident like that – pretending to be remorseful, of all things! He growled as he went back to marking, being particularly harsh on the current essay.

_What is that whelp trying to pull? Is he trying to further the insult?_

He closed his eyes, tight and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Giving up on grading, he swept out of the classroom to catch the last few minutes of lunch before having to return to teaching. He refused to dwell on his emotions. At least until later in the evening.

He arrived in the Great Hall in time for the last ten minutes of lunch.

As he sat down, he allowed his gaze to sweep the room. His eyes finally landed on Potter.

The boy was laughing with his friends, eating his lunch.

_Probably relaying the hilarity of his Professor Bating,_ he thought, bitterly. He helped himself to a small slice of shepherd's pie and a cup of tea, his glare not leaving Potter.

"Is everything alright, Severus?" Lupin's soft voice broke into his thoughts.

"Not that it is any of your business, but yes, everything is just _peachy_," he bit out, sarcastically. Before Lupin could get in another word, concerned or otherwise, Severus stood abruptly and swept out of the Hall.

_Blasted wolf,_ he scowled as he sat down in the chair he'd left only minutes before. Not even five minutes until the next class began. He just _knew_ he was in for a headache. Third-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

_Damned know-it-alls and spineless twits…_ he glared at the back of the classroom, trying to reign in his emotions. He didn't want to render the incompetent little dunderheads _completely_ useless. It would only serve to anger him further and worsen his inevitable headache.

When the bell rang, he rose to greet the next class, only just managing to bottle his anger.

Finally, after forty-five excruciating minutes, the class ended; the students hurrying to pack up and leave, not willing to stay any longer than absolutely necessary.

Severus remained at his desk until the last student had gone. He waited a few moments, listening as the footsteps got further and further away, until letting out a low growl and storming up to his office. As he'd predicted, he had a headache. He retrieved a pain-relieving potion and sat at his desk to take it.

Thankfully, he had a free lesson. The only one of the week, this week. _Damned Werewolf_. He downed the potion and rested his face in his hands; elbows on the desk.

His mind thought back over the past week. He was suppressing the hurt at the parchment's words quite well, until the Potter spawn decided to bring it up again.

The past week had grated on his nerves more than usual. It seemed that everywhere he went, someone had a new – or old – name to call him. It was wearing him down. It all built up. Every day.

He took a deep breath as he willed his emotions away. _The little bastard,_ he thought. _As good an actor as he is, I don't believe him for a second._

As much as he'd always wanted at least one person to care, he dared not believe it was possible. He'd only be setting himself up for heartbreak and humiliation.

He ran his hands through his hair in aggravation before crossing his arms on the desk and burying his face in them, intending to relax for a few moments, as the potion set in, before forcing himself to continue his marking.

"Professor?" A timid voice broke the silence of his office, only moments later. _Harry fucking Potter._

"What!" He barked, not raising his head.

"May I come in?" The boy's voice was quiet, but determined… nervous.

"What do you want now, Potter? Don't you have class?" He finally looked up to glare at the nervous thirteen-year-old.

"Yes, sir. But I –"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for truancy, Potter," he growled out, hoping that would make the insufferable child leave.

"Yes, sir." The boy was really getting on his nerves. He glared harder. "I-I wanted to tell you that I meant what I said this morning, Professor. I'm really sorry for what happened last week." He bit his lip, waiting for a reply.

Severus had none. He turned his head and focussed his glare on his desk.

The next thing he knew, Potter was settling in the seat in front of his desk.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" he lifted his gaze to the boy's face once more.

"I… don't know. I just… wanted to make sure you're ok. I don't want to… pry, but last week, I saw how upset you were when the parchment said those things.

"I know we never get along and we don't particularly like each other, but… I know how it feels to be insulted like that. No-one should be made to feel that way…" he lowered his eyes to the desk, not sure why he cared. He could feel his cheeks heating up again, He didn't want to sound so… _girly_, his mind provided. But, the look on Snape's face told him everything was not alright. The man looked tired.

Severus sighed. He felt exhausted all of a sudden. "What are you playing at, Potter? I'm _insulted_ that you think that I'll fall for any of your imbecilic pranks. What that blasted piece of paper said certainly had no affect on me. Such childish comments do not concern me, I assure you. You can rest soundly tonight, with the fact that my feelings were not damaged.

"There. Is that what your Gryffindor sensibilities needed to hear?" Severus gave a deadpan look at his least-favourite student, hoping _that_ would get rid of him. Alas.

"Professor. I really am sorry. I'm not trying to trick you." He leant forward, slightly, and continued, "I mean it. I know how it feels. The comments may seem insignificant, but they build and build, and they hurt more every time. Eventually, you start to believe them.

"The parchment may not have sworn at you, but it certainly added to what has already been said to you in the past.

"I saw your face. You were _hurt_." The look on Potter's face was too much. Severus couldn't take anymore. He was at the end of his rope.

"Well, isn't this _wonderful_. _Saint Potter_ is here to save the day, again. The brave Gryffindor is here to _comfort_ me, the emotionally wounded Slytherin. Certainly, this will be the foundation to building the bridge between Houses.

"An act to assuage the nagging need to be everyone's hero? Even to your 'Greasy Git' of a Potions professor? The 'Dungeon Bat'? Oh, yes, Potter, I know the _charming_ names your delinquent little peers have so _fondly_ bestowed upon me.

"I don't need pity. Least of all, _yours_!" He slammed his hands down on the desk, startling Potter, before he stood up, knocking his chair over and storming to the corner of his office, one hand on his hip, the other over his squeezed-shut eyes, willing the suddenly threatening tears away.

With his back to the room, and his eyes closed, he didn't see the brat get up and walk over to him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. His whole body tensed at the gentle touch. He didn't move, for fear of striking the boy. Then, the next thing he knew, skinny arms were being wrapped around his waist, in a tight embrace; the boy's head resting on his back.

Harry Potter was hugging him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry kept silent throughout Snape's rant. He knew how the man must be hurting. He knew he'd probably been called more names, worse names, for longer than Harry had been alive. He heard what other students called the man, and that was only when he was doing his job; assigning tasks and enforcing rules. He didn't want to know what people called the poor guy when he was in a bad mood – most likely caused by hearing one of the names being used.

It just wasn't fair.

So, he let him get it all out.

He hadn't counted on seeing his strong, stoic professor practically break down. He hadn't expected to see the man almost burst into tears.

His heart constricted in his chest. He remembered all the times he'd cried after being bullied. He remembered how it felt to wish someone was there to comfort him; to hold him and tell him everything would be ok.

As far as he knew, Snape had no-one. He didn't have anyone to comfort him; to hold him and tell him everything would be ok.

He made his way over to the lonely man and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt Snape tense completely, as though he'd whirl around and strike out.

A little more nervously, Harry wrapped his arms around his professor's waist and hugged him tight; like he'd always craved someone to do for him.

"Shh… it's ok, sir," he whispered.

If possible, Severus tensed up even more. Harry Potter was hugging him. Hugging him and… comforting him, it seemed.

"Kindly remove your arms from my person, Mr Potter," he whispered. He really didn't know how to handle this.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't do that. You need this." The boy tightened his hold and refused to release him. _Insolent brat_. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter. Release me." He pried the skinny arms from his middle and pushed the boy away as gently as he could in his anger – and humiliation. He couldn't believe he'd broken down like that in front of a student. Especially this one.

He turned around to face the strange child, waiting for some kind of explanation… or for the boy to leave.

Potter just stood there, meeting his gaze evenly. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"Explain yourself."

"I told you, sir. I know how you must feel. And I'm sick of hating you. You're a cranky bastard at times, but you've never hurt me… and I don't think I've really done anything to hurt you… physically." He shrugged, not looking away from Severus' suspicious glare.

"I see. What makes you think I care about what you or anyone else thinks, Mr Potter?"

Harry allowed a small, sad smile to appear on his lips, before he answered, "Well, your tirade, for one." He stepped forward and took Snape's hand, leading him back to his desk, making him sit back down in his chair. Harry perched himself on the desk, hooking his ankles together, clasping his hands between his knees. "I'd like us to be friends, sir." He smiled, hoping the cynical man believed him.

"Mr Potter, I am your teacher. We are not here to be 'friends'. You are here to learn. I am here to teach. Our… 'relationship' is that of teacher and student. We are not friends."

"But we could be." He couldn't help but be hopeful.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Did you not listen to what I just said? I am your teacher. You are my student." His glare turned icy. "I don't need friends."

Harry's heart clenched. _The poor, poor man._ He'd built a wall to keep people out. And himself – his feelings, his dignity, in.

"Yes you do," Harry insisted, refusing to give up.

"Get out." The boy shook his head, eyes burning with determination.

"No."

Severus sighed. The child wouldn't give up. Even if he took a thousand points. _Stubborn little bastard…_

"Potter, you have class." He was so tired. In all senses of the word. He squeezed his eyes shut once more, bringing his hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose, his other hand held the arm of his chair in a white-knuckle grip.

"Yes, sir. But I had something more important to do."

Severus sighed again. He knew when he was beat. He looked up at the thrice-damned Gryffindor, wariness on his face, as he ceded.

"Very well, Potter. Friends." _What am I getting myself into?_

Harry beamed, jumping from the desk.

He'd won!

He flung his arms around Snape's neck, hugging him tight.

"You won't regret this, sir." He gave one last squeeze before pulling away.

"This doesn't mean I'll write you a late-note…" he grumbled. Harry just laughed, picked up his bag and strode to the door.

"I'll see you tonight. For tea," he called, as he left.

As dinner finished, Severus felt his stomach flop around with nerves. He couldn't take his mind off his tea-date with Potter. He was going to have _tea_ with _Harry Potter_. Something about that just didn't sound right to him. He was dreading it. And, as much as he wanted to cancel and deny the brat what he wanted, he just couldn't. He was so tired of being lonely. He wondered if he'd hit rock bottom, accepting the company – and therefore, possibly the friendship (he was still not sure of this aspect) – of a thirteen-year-old boy. His student, no less. He pushed his plate away, the food hardly touched, and excused himself to his chambers. He had to prepare for his… guest.

At six-thirty, there was a knock on his office door. Potter was on time, it seemed. He shook his head, still wondering what had gotten into him.

He answered the door silently; a brief nod his only greeting. The boy gave a small smile and his own nod in return. _This is going to be a long evening._

Harry waited a few minutes before leaving the Hall, when he saw Snape excuse himself. He knew he should allow enough time for his teacher to actually get down to his office and prepare himself and the tea.

He knew it would probably be awkward; at least at first, anyway. He knew it would be hard to draw Snape out of his fortressed little world and into his. But, he also knew it was worth all the trouble. He knew it because he, himself, had been tentative to reach out to others. Even Ron and Hermione, at first. Until, that is, they reached out to him. And, Harry decided, that was exactly what Severus Snape needed: someone to reach out to him.

As he returned Snape's quiet greeting, he wondered what they would talk about. If anything. He mentally shook his head. _It doesn't matter. Silence is just as good. As long as he knows I'm serious about this._

Severus watched as Potter walked mildly into his office, standing before his desk, waiting for permission to sit.

He nodded once, signalling for the boy to make himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he could in the hard, rickety chair.

Severus stalked to his own chair and gracefully seated himself, never taking his eyes from this seemingly-enigmatic child before him.

"Thank you for having me, sir," said Potter quietly. _Who knew the Potter-spawn would have manners._ He smirked slightly before nodding once more. He served the tea, not offering milk or sugar. This didn't seem to annoy the boy in the least. He sat quietly, watching Severus over the rim of his cup, sipping almost daintily.

"What do you want, Potter?" He finally broke the silence, a few minutes later, when they'd both finished their first cups of tea.

"Sir?"

"You must want something. You requested this… meeting." He really didn't know what to call it. Neither of them were being particularly sociable. Not that he cared. But not having a reason for this visit was gnawing at him. Not that he'd admit it.

"Well… this is what friends do, isn't it? Have tea?" He sounded genuinely confused. _Either he's a brilliant actor, or he's even more of a witless wonder than Longbottom._

"Very astute, Potter. We are not friends."

"But, you said—"

"I retract my statement." He blanked his face, daring the little bastard to try and push him.

"No." He wasn't being petulant. He simply stated the word as though it was the bottom line of the matter. He would not let Severus back out. _Little shit…_

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said no. I want to be your friend. I like you. Well… I don't dislike you as much as I used to."

Severus had no response to this. It was blunt, truthful and completely unapologetic. He felt his lips twitch, threatening him with a smile. He forced it down.

"And, what, Mr Potter, makes you think you have control over this situation?"

"Nothing. Just the fact that you need someone. Anyone. And I'm here. For you." He shrugged, helping himself to more tea, this time adding one teaspoon of sugar.

Severus just sat there, still speechless. _The gall of this child!_

"You are as insufferable as your father was! But, I do admit – even more so. You manipulative little cretin! I will not be emotionally… _coerced _into a _relationship_ of any kind with _you_! How dare you try to force your company upon me!" He was seething, now. All he could see was a younger, smaller James Potter before him, trying to get what he wanted (though at this point, he didn't know exactly what that was) via any means necessary.

Potter stood up, quietly placed his cup to the side, before leaning over the large desk, placing his face right in Severus'.

"I am _not_ my father. I don't _know_ my father. And don't you presume to know me. Not yet. This is what I wanted when I asked for this visit. I _want_ to be your friend. I do. And, as hard as you try to make it, the more I will insist and push you until you give in. You need me. And…" he eased away, his glare softening, "who else do you really have?"

Severus felt his heart miss a beat. He wanted to hit this child. He wanted to slap the concerned, pitying look right off his cherubic little face! _How dare he!_ He was continually amazed at the guts this boy had in defying him, in threatening his control.

He swallowed, trying to compose himself, holding the angry tears and words at bay. He would not break in front of this child. Not today. Not ever.

"I think I should leave, sir. I'm sorry if I offended you. But…" he shrugged his shoulder, "someone had to tell you. And, like I said, who else do you have?" With that, he laid a gentle hand on his professor's, giving a light squeeze, before turning around and leaving.

He shook his head as he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. He knew the git would be stubborn… but _this_ stubborn? He presumed to know Harry through a distant memory of who his father had been as a child. Even he, as a thirteen-year-old child could see the ridiculousness of that. To hold such a grudge for over twenty years… he could only imagine how it could twist a person's mind; his heart.

Another week passed. Harry let his teacher sulk, knowing he needed some time to cool off after their confrontation. He also needed the time to himself. He'd been angry at Snape. He was a grown man, hating a boy for something the child had no control over. It was absolutely ridiculous.

He wondered what had happened that could possibly make his teacher hate his father so much. And, as a result, him.

During his Tuesday Potions, Harry decided they'd had enough time to themselves. He wanted to move on from this tentative, yet volatile stage of their friendship. He wanted to be able to help the man, not make him feel even worse.

Severus held in a weary groan as the class ended, signalling the start of lunch. He was exhausted! He'd barely slept in the past week. _Damn him! How the hell does he have such an effect on me?_ He glowered at the straggling students, encouraging them to get a move on, out of his space.

Finally, when they'd all gone, he let out his weary groan, folded his arms on the desk and buried his face between them. He could just feel the blood pounding against his temples. Another migraine, no doubt.

"… sir?" He started at the quiet voice, snapping his head up. And, who else would it be but _Potter._ _Saint fucking Potter._

"_What?_" His already-thin patience was running out. He was going to hex this insufferable child into the next millennia!

_AN: Hello, everyone! I just want to say thank you to those who have reviewed! Also, as I have replied to most reviews, I am going to take my time and try to make this a little more serious – darker – than my other fics. So, it won't be updated on a set date each week. As I finish the chapters, I will post them. Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews. You know I love to hear from all of you! XD_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Harry hesitated a little; Snape looked miserable. Miserable and exhausted. He really didn't want to upset the man any further. But the weariness in his teacher's eyes encouraged him to do something. The man was obviously in a bad place – who knew how long he'd been there? – and needed a friend. Every time he thought about it, Harry's heart clenched. He hated to see someone in so much pain.

"I just wanted to see how you are. It's been a week since we've spoken," he sat at Snape's desk, not worried about being late to his next class. At his words, Snape's eyes narrowed even further; his lips thinning as he glared at the boy before him.

*x*

Severus just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to curl up in a mess of pillows and blankets and go to sleep and never wake up. He was so tired. Physically and emotionally, he was beyond his limits. He'd had enough. He felt stretched and ready to snap. And snap he did.

"Potter! How many times must I tell you before it sinks into your thick skull? We're _not friends_! I can hardly stand _teaching_ you! _Why_ would I go out of my way to see you – to spend _time_ with you – when merely having you in my classroom is enough to tempt me towards suicide?" He folded his arms across his chest, _daring_ the child to argue.

The reaction he received was worse.

Potter's eyes watered; tears escaped, gliding down his cheeks before being wiped away quickly. The boy nodded and left without another word.

Severus immediately felt awful. He'd meant to push the boy away… but he'd never wanted to make him cry! He rubbed his eyes, willing away his own tears as a memory of a similar situation reared its ugly head.

_He was six or seven; still relatively happy in his childhood. He'd been outside in the garden with his favourite little red ball, bouncing it against the brick wall. When the ball started floating in the air, Severus gasped, happily realising that _he_ was making it happen. He laughed in delight, making the ball spin a few times before grabbing it and running inside to show his parents._

"_Mum! Dad! Look!" He ran into the kitchen, finding his mother at the sink, washing, and his father reading the paper at the table._

_ "What is it, Severus?" His mother turned, drying her hands on her apron. His father didn't acknowledge his presence at all. But no matter; _this _would get his attention._

_ "Look what I can do!" He held his ball up, concentrating on making it float. Finally, it was spinning slowly in the air, by itself. Severus looked proudly to his parents._

_The look of worry on his mother's face and the look of rage on his father's wiped the smile from his own. He wondered what was wrong._

_ Suddenly, he felt something hit his cheek, hard. His father had slapped him. Holding his cheek, trying not to cry, little Severus waited nervously._

"_I knew it. I fucking knew it…" his father growled. "You're a rotten little freak. Just like your mother's family. Get out of my sight before I'm sick! Don't you ever do that again!" He glared at Severus, before picking up the paper once more._

_Severus left is ball in the kitchen, letting it fall to the floor. He ran to the stairs, sitting on the very top, hugging his legs to himself, his forehead resting on his knees. He could still hear his parents._

"_Tobias… don't you think that was a little harsh?" His mother's timid voice floated up to his ears._

_ "No. The ugly little bastard has been nothing but a disappointment since the moment you spawned him. I can't stand the thought he's mine. It nearly drives me to cut my fucking wrists." Severus held in a sob, listening for his mother's response. Surely she'd say something in his defence?_

_ "I… I know, dear. I'm sorry." _What!_ "But he's our son…" she was cut off by what sounded like a slap._

_ "He's _your_ son. I don't have any children," came the growl._

_Suddenly, Tobias was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at Severus._

_ "Good. You heard that, did you? Saves time." He left for the living room, leaving Severus speechless on the stairs, tears streaking down his face._

He wiped away the fresh tears the memory brought on. Finding out he could perform magic was supposed to have been the best day of his life. Instead, he'd found out that his parents hadn't loved him. He'd been kept out of his mother's sense of familial obligation. It still hurt to think about; still made his chest ache with sorrow. Even his parents hadn't loved him. He truly had no one.

And now… and now he'd practically repeated history with Potter. Only… he'd been in his father's place – the one thing in his life he'd never wanted to become. And yet, there he stood.

_Fuck_. He'd have to apologise. Immediately. There was nothing else for it. He'd treated his student appallingly and would hold himself accountable. _But he _does_ have Granger and Weasley… it isn't as though he has no one,_ a spiteful little voice chimed in. _And he will definitely leave you alone._ But… is that truly what he wanted? Why was he sighting so hard to push this child away? Why did he hold such animosity towards a boy he, admittedly, hardly knew? He groaned, wiping away the last of his tears. Surely, he didn't deserve Potter's naïve attempts at friendship. But… he found he… wanted them. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

*x*

Harry skipped class for the rest of the day. He didn't want to face anyone after what Snape had said.

He'd been trying to be nice! He'd only wanted to help! Why was the man so against accepting his friendship? Why would he want to be alone? _Maybe he just prefers being alone to being _my_ friend?_ He sniffed, curling up in his blanket even further. He'd gone back to his dormitory after Snape's outburst. He knew it probably shouldn't have upset him so, but he'd been trying so hard to befriend the man. He knew it was probably just the professor's defence mechanism; trying to push him away before he could hurt his teacher's feelings… but it still hurt. Snape had said he couldn't _stand_ him! That he'd been "tempted towards suicide" by his mere presence. Why? What was so awful about him? Why did most people automatically overlook him? Or hate him? Sure, he had a few friends… but which of them befriended him for his personality rather than his name? Was he really so unpleasant to be around? Did others feel this way? Were they just tolerate him because of his name?

He squeezed his eyes closed, burying his face into the pillow, trying to stifle a sob. _What's wrong with me?_

*x*

Severus was pacing his hearth, just after dinner had ended; one arm folded over his waist, the opposite hand to his face, the long fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. He was contemplating how to approach Potter. He _had_ to apologise. As much as the brat annoyed him, no one deserved that treatment. He'd already decided his pride was shot when it came to this child… so apologising really shouldn't be so _difficult_. And yet… he was at a loss; not only for words, but for any idea of how to even get the child to listen to him. He had no one to turn to for help; no experience of apologising to anyone to draw inspiration from. He was completely in over his head.

After half an hour and a not-so-healthy dose of brandy, he decided to call it a night.

He was a teacher. Potter was his student. Therefore, Potter had to listen to what he had to say. So, he'd make the boy stay after class the next time he saw him, and make him listen to his apology. Simple. He hoped.

*x*

For the next two weeks, Harry avoided Snape as much as possible. In Potions, he avoided making eye contact, tried to be as quiet as possible, without messing anything up _too_ badly. It had been going quite well, until the Tuesday Potions, a fortnight after their last encounter.

This class was as awkward as all the previous, with Harry avoiding eye contact etc, while Snape gave no indication he knew Harry was even in the room. In fact, for the past two weeks, the only interaction Snape really had with the Gryffindors was when he vanished Neville's potions just before they exploded or boiled over or became deadly poison gases. Harry didn't know what to think. He didn't want to upset the man further… but he wanted to know where they stood.

After another lesson of near-silence, Harry was surprised to hear the deep, dark voice of his potions professor, asking him to stay after class. Not really having a choice, Harry stood before the man's desk as the other students filed out as quickly as possible. He stared at the wood, not daring to make eye contact.

After a few moments of silence, Snape finally spoke. "Potter… I apologise." Surprised, he finally looked up.

*x*

Severus stood behind his chair at his desk, watching the boy's bowed head. It was obvious Potter was uncomfortable. So, after hesitating a moment or two, he decided he should make this as quick as possible.

"Potter… I apologise." The reaction his words got him was almost comical. The boy's head snapped up, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open in a silent gasp. He forced himself to continue. "I… was… I was out of line when I said those things, a couple of weeks ago. I was tired. And angry. I used you as an outlet for my anger and I'm sorry for it. You're my student and you deserve better treatment than what I've shown you recently. Will you…" he hesitated slightly, uncomfortable with this last sentence. "Will you accept my apology?"

There. He said it. After two whole weeks of planning and chickening-out and practicing and rehearsing, he finally said it. As halting and ineloquent as it was, he'd finally apologised to Harry Potter. Someone give him a freaking medal.

And now… now it was up to Potter as to what happened. He was somewhat relieved… and a lot worried. What would the boy say? Would he accept? Or would he laugh in his face? Would he hex him? Severus wasn't so sure he'd try to defend himself at this point.

He kept his gaze on the boy, neither breaking the first contact in fourteen days.

Until, finally, Potter spoke.

"Y-you… you don't feel that way?" it was so quiet, so timid. Severus' heart clenched; he squeezed his eyes closed, taking a calming breath.

"No," he whispered. "No, I don't."

_AN: Wow. It's been… a while. I'm sorry about that! I hope this last chapter is as well received as the first two. I'm trying to keep it at a certain pace and mood. At least for the first few chapters. Until they become comfortable enough with each other for things to lighten up. :) _

_Thank you to all my reviewers! You're so patient! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too._


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